Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

"Pure... malice?"

Roland mulled over the description for a moment but came up with nothing.

Teresa couldn’t offer any other useful information beyond that one detail.

So, Roland had to set the matter aside for the time being, though he secretly raised his guard.

In his opinion, in this world filled with Extraordinary Power, one could never be too cautious.

Before setting out to eliminate the Pirates, Roland and Hobbit had already spent considerable time refining their plan. They even deliberately charted a course that avoided potentially dangerous waters.

As a result, the voyage to Wailing Gorge was exceptionally smooth, and they encountered no trouble along the way.

Roland didn’t slack off during this time, either.

In addition to his constant practice of the [Nameless Breathing Technique], he also kept up with his training in various Sailing Skills.

The days were as regular and fulfilling as they had been on land.

Within just a few days, the ship had left the River Domain Kings’ Capitals far behind.

Looking into the distance, the rugged silhouette of Wailing Gorge was already faintly visible.

However, Roland’s gaze wasn’t fixed on Wailing Gorge, but rather...

Leaning against the ship’s rail, he gazed at the distant, mist-shrouded land and let out a long sigh.

He had heard countless rumors about the Land of Mist from others and through various channels.

But he knew how dangerous it was. Even back when he was hunting Demons to fulfill the requirements for becoming an [Apprentice Knight], he had always skirted the area. The quests he took on deliberately avoided the region.

This was the first time he had laid eyes on the mist-swallowed Domain since arriving in the River Domain.

His [Material Synesthesia] gave him an extraordinarily keen Perception of Magic Elements. Even with a vast expanse of water between him and the Land of Mist, he could still clearly sense the staggering concentration of Magic Elements there.

The Magic Power was so dense it actually made him feel a strange sense of discomfort.

It felt like the slight buzz from drinking too much ale.

He shook his head and took another deep breath.

The cold sea breeze blew in his face, but it couldn’t dispel the strange feeling.

Roland said a few words to Hobbit and Teresa, then returned to his cabin to rest.

As they drew closer to the Land of Mist, the tipsy feeling of discomfort grew stronger.

Left with no other choice, Roland resorted to sleep, hoping it would help him fight off the peculiar sensation.

When the moonlight passed through the porthole and streamed across Roland’s face, he abruptly opened his eyes.

Glancing at the inky black night outside the cabin, Roland shook his groggy head and sat on the edge of the bed, his expression somewhat dazed.

It took a moment for his awareness to fully return.

’I never thought this [Material Synesthesia] Skill would have such a side effect...’

He sighed helplessly and carefully examined his condition.

His Spirit was unusually high, and he had plenty of stamina.

Other than a lingering grogginess in his head, he felt fine.

He closed his eyes again. After a moment, confirming he was wide awake, Roland slowly got out of bed.

’Guess I’ll go get some air on deck...’

Thinking this, he threw on some clothes and pushed open the cabin door.

It was the dead of night. Aside from a few crew members on patrol, the deck was empty.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The dull thud of his leather boots on the deck was exceptionally clear in the dead of night, like a suppressed drumbeat.

The sound, echoing the crash of the waves, wove itself into a somber nocturne.

After a simple greeting to the crew members who passed by, Roland fetched a jug of fresh water and walked to a secluded corner.

GULP... GULP...

As the cold liquid slid down his throat, Roland felt his groggy mind clear slightly.

’After all this preparation, to run into something unexpected like this...’

He murmured to himself, then with a backhand motion, drew the Secret Silver Longsword from his waist and swung it through the air a few times.

’Still, this condition... shouldn’t affect the coming fight.’

The sharp edge of his blade flashed under the moonlight, and Roland’s gaze was involuntarily drawn back to the distant, mist-swallowed region.

The impenetrably thick, grayish-white haze resembled a colossal, damp shroud, weighing heavily upon the horizon.

Moonlight struggled at its edges, only to be mercilessly devoured and twisted, revealing only a sickly, deathly pale glow.

The mist itself was not static. It churned and writhed with a slowness that was unsettling, as if countless invisible behemoths slumbered and breathed within its depths.

Merely gazing upon it sent a chill originating from the depths of his soul crawling up his spine.

It was as if the mist was silently proclaiming that this was a forbidden zone for the living, a chaotic place where the very Laws of reality were twisted beyond recognition.

’I wonder how Avril is doing...’

Gazing at the impenetrably thick mist in the distance, Roland’s thoughts involuntarily drifted to that outwardly lively and cheerful Elf Maiden.

But the worry lasted only a moment before slowly fading.

He still didn’t know the Elf Maiden’s true identity. However, judging by the respect Galvis always showed her, Roland was certain her Power was no less than his own.

Even if the River Domain’s campaign against the Wolf King were to fail, he was sure the Elf Maiden’s life wouldn’t be in danger.

As his thoughts drifted, that uncomfortable, tipsy feeling quietly welled up again.

However, compared to before, Roland felt his body was gradually adapting to the discomfort caused by the high concentration of Magic Elements.

He took a few deep breaths and was about to look away and return to his cabin when his eyes caught a strange glimmer in the thick darkness of the night.

The light glimmered faintly over the sea near the Land of Mist, like a single firefly.

Then, like pollen carried on the wind, it traced a bright arc through the air.

’What... is that?’

Roland narrowed his eyes, trying to see it more clearly.

But in the next instant, the distant glimmer of light appeared without warning right above his head.

In a flash, Roland’s nerves went taut.

As his brow furrowed, the Secret Silver Longsword at his waist became a flash of cold lightning, tearing through the moonlight as it stabbed toward the glimmer.

To Roland’s surprise, however, the glimmer of light was astonishingly fast. It dodged nimbly, just grazing the sharp edge of his blade.

Seeing this, Roland held nothing back; the [Nameless Breathing Technique] roared to life within his body.

A searing current of air instantly surged through his limbs. Accompanied by a piercing whistle, the Secret Silver Longsword tore through the air once more in a vicious slash.

Roland swung his longsword and opened his mouth to shout—to warn the crew and summon Teresa for backup—but in that same instant, a light, urgent voice suddenly cried out.

"Wai—wait a second!"

Before the voice could finish, the tip of his sword had already pierced the glimmer of light.

But the light didn’t vanish. Instead, it scattered like Star Dust under the sharp blade, reforming in an instant just three steps away from Roland.

In the blink of an eye, the slender figure of a woman with thin, butterfly-like wings appeared clearly before Roland.